


Angel food and Demon's teeth

by TheShippingFleet



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Non-con Sexual Fantasy, Non-con turning into Con when Aziraphale realizes he loves Crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShippingFleet/pseuds/TheShippingFleet
Summary: This has been abandoned unless I can get someone to help me with it. I'm not good at writing long stuff on my own and have no idea where this should go.Contains mature themes and some triggering things. Noncon fantasy, probably con actual things. The demon Crowley had been smitten with a certain angel for a bit too long now. Something might have to happen... AziraphalexCrowley
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. 1443 and Now

For a long time, Crowley was smitten with the angel called Aziraphale. Every time he saw that blasted angel it felt like a fire burned hotter within him. What was once just a candle flame quickly, for him at least, grew to be a roaring inferno. Now, quickly for Crowley and other supernatural entities was over a few hundred years. More specifically about 1700 years. The inferno kept growing every time The demon saw Aziraphale. Every time they had dinner together he would watch the Angel eat, watch his movements, take in his sent. Luckily for him, his glasses hid his sinfully wandering gaze. Aziraphale never seemed to notice, and Crowley was very careful to remember that they were "friends" and that Aziraphale was not, in fact, helpless and innocent prey. Crowley didn't want to really hurt the angel, no, no. He wanted a... Trophy. A victory. The angel was the perfect challenge for him. Innocent and unlikely to give into temptation, oh he really would be quite a fun challenge.

Crowley shifted in his throne. It had been over 3000 years since that first candle of lust began to grow. Every time they sat in the park, Aziraphale's angelic energy would intoxicate Crowley. Making it hard for him to think straight and continue his plan of wooing the unknowing, blasted, angel. 

Crowley shifted again, starting to become uncomfortable. Thinking about that blessed angel did things to him. Horribly wicked things. Thinks that no Angel should be allowed to do to a poor demon. Why was he so unknowingly tempting? Tempting was Crowley's job! But that blessed angel... His warmth and powerful energy. His unknown little teases. He drove his demon mad with desire.   
'His demon?' Thought Crowley, 'I am nobody's demon. I am my own. I am not... His. He does not control me!' What Crowley didn't want to admit was Aziraphale did, in fact, have a ridiculous amount of control over him. He unwillingly started to remember what things he did for that angel. The time they were at Shakespeare's theater and that dammed puppy dog look that stupid, tempting, angel gave him. No, Crowley only did that because he wanted to keep the angel wanting to see him. Nothing at all about how his body turned and his eyes shone. About that look of happiness that settled on his face. 

Satan bless that angel! At this rate, the wound up demon would have to do something about it. His pants felt hot and oh so tight. In 1443 Aziraphale had dribbled a bit thick bodied, blood red, wine down his chin and Crowley had to wonder if that's what it would look like if he bit the angel's lip. He also delighted in seeing the angel squirm unhappily while he tried to not get it on his clothes. Later that night, when they had had more to drink, Aziraphale did spill some on his clothes, and being too drunk to remember he could just miracle the stain out, got all flustered and bothered about how he could never wear that shirt again. Crowley enjoyed watching the angel squirm, enjoyed the heavy flush on his face and ears, enjoyed the slur of his speech, the whining in his voice. Crowley seized the opportunity to push the already rattled angel. Crowley put his wooden goblet down and slowly walked over to where Aziraphale was currently having a fit. When Crowley's shadow fell over Aziraphale, he became still and quiet. He had looked at the demon with shame and slight fear. Crowley had leaned over the angel and had put one hand on the wall behind him. The air was thick with tension. Aziraphale seemed small underneath Crowley's gaze and imposing position. With his free hand, the demon started unbuttoning the angel's shirt slowly.

"Cr-Crohly!" Aziraphale Had slurred, slightly frightened by this sudden change in his friend. The air got more and more tense with each button undone. Crowley traced out every piece of perfect angel skin, that was exposed, with is gaze. Counting every one of the angel's golden chest hairs that were stained red by the wine, wondering what it would feel like to touch them. He longed to know. Longed to take Aziraphale's shirt off completely and start trailing kisses down his holy body. Longed to see what he could do with that snake tongue of his. What would make the angel squirm more? What would make him gasp? Would he close his eyes, or try to fight? 

The demon tilted his head so that his full golden eyes could be seen over his glasses, he reached out for a cloth that was on the table between them when they had both been sitting. Leaning in so his face was inches from the angel's, and maintaining eye contact the whole time, Crowley started to wipe off the almost mahogany liquid off of Aziraphale's exposed chest. As soon as the cloth touched him, Aziraphale had flinched and made a small gasp. He looked at Crowley with a flushed face and lidded, dark, eyes. Crowley slowly wiped the liquid off of his angel. His angel... 

'The angel.' Crowley corrected himself. By this point he was making his way to his bedroom. These thoughts had gotten too much for him to not do something about. Blasted angel. Getting a demon all hot and bothered? How dare he. While after wiping Aziraphale down, he quickly returned to his seat in real life. He didn't want to think about that boring thing. That day had been a test and Crowley wanted more, so much more. As he opened the door to his bedroom and cursed off his clothes, he sighed in relief as his member, current genitalia of choice, was free. Crowley let his mind wander to what he wanted to do to that angel that night. 

It started with he wouldn't have wiped the wine off of the angel. He would have taken his glasses off and leaned down to lick the red liquid off, keeping eye contact and tasting the ambrosia of the angel's sweat and skin. 

He sat down on the bed and started stroking himself. While masturbation wasn't actually a sin, it was something the humans made up in their bible, Crowley liked to pretend it was. Just to feel like he was pissing off God a bit more.

He would have picked up Aziraphale and layed him out on the rug. Touching his body reverently but still showing his need. Aziraphale's shirt, however, would be ripped to shreds by the demon's talons. He would grab the sides of the angel's exposed abdomen and dive in. He imagined that Aziraphale would try to fight, trying, and failing, to push the demon off of him. Flailing miserably, deliciously. Crowley would bite the angel's neck, Aziraphale would yell desperately and spread his wings to flap around and try to escape.

A low moan came from Crowley as he thought about biting the angel. It made him involuntarily twitch which caused a hiss of pleasure. He wanted that angel. Crowley raked his now talons against the skin on his abdomen, leaving red, angry scratches along his tensing abs. Satan that felt good. He wondered how the angel's blood would taste as it seeped into his mouth. Would it burn him as holy water did? He honestly didn't care, he just wanted to lap up the golden blood from the helpless angel.

Next he would curse off the flailing and terrified angel's clothes. Next, he would unfurl his own, blackened and singed, wings and use them to pin the angel's untouched and beautiful wings to the ground. Aziraphale, with his wings pinned, and his arms above his head, would try to scream, or say something to make the wild demon stop. Crowley wouldn't let him.

Crowley started stroking faster. His imagination was running about as wild as his heart. It felt so good. He was throbbing with desire, he needed his angel. There was that word again, his.

"My angel." Crowley felt a pang of absolute pleasure at saying those words outloud, "Fuck... My angel..." He rolled the words around in his mouth like he was savoring the flavor of a nice scotch. He was getting closer with every passing thought. His hips jerked erratically as he thought about kissing his angel. 

He would have kissed Aziraphale to prevent him from screaming, or saying some sort of blessed prayer to banish Crowley. Forcing his snake tongue into his mouth and tasting his fear and the wine from the night mingling. The angel would give out a moan. Crowley didn't think Aziraphale had kissed anybody like that before. He hoped it would calm him down enough to be able to let go of his hands. Take his mind and show him what being Fallen meant. The raw desire and sin that came from it. 

Crowley realized that he didn't want to hurt Aziraphale. He wanted Aziraphale, but he didn't want to hurt him. That kind of confused him for a minute, but his mind was too far gone to be confused for longer than just one earth second. He cursed an image of Aziraphale into being, standing next to the bed, wings spread. Crowley didn't have the brainpower to make the phantom image move or anything, but the sight of his body, his wings, his eyes made him gasp and grunt, pushing harder up into his hand.

Aziraphale would relax into his kiss, wings untensing and arms not struggling any more. Crowley would let the angel's arms go and stabilize himself above him. HE'd use his free hand to stroke down the angel's side, gentle, almost tender. Well, as tender as a ravenously horny demon could be. Once his hand reached the hips, he would gently start scratching them before sitting up and hoisting the angel's legs up. Breaking the kiss with the angel would have been difficult, he didn't want to. He'd position himself right at the angel's opening that probably got summoned some portion of the way though. Aziraphale liked this. If he didn't like it, why would he manifest genitalia? Crowley would slowly lower himself untill his tip had just touched the angel and-

Crowley didn't get to finish his thought. Seeing the slightly wavering image of Aziraphale standing in front of him and just thinking about going in him was too much. "Aziraphale!" Crowley cried out as he came, losing control of his demonic energy a bit and probably sending his location to anybody in the area. He didn't care, he was blinded with absolute pleasure. Pleasure he hadn't felt since before the fall, though, technically that was different. His body was wracked with wave after wave of infernal heat, and his semen was going everywhere. He had never orgasmed so hard in 6000 years. He was practically crying Aziraphale's name as he said it again and again.

When Crowley finally regained any amount of composer he realized he had tears in his eyes and his whole body hurt. He also realized that his wings had sprung out during his burst of desire. One was against the wall, and the other pinned between the bed and the nightstand. Crowley couldn't move them right now. He couldn't move at all. He couldn't even care that his feathers were being bent and ruffled. The image of Aziraphale started fading away as Crowley panted for breath he didn't technically need.

He lay there, covered in sweat, wings a mess, chest dripping in white goo.

Then his cellphone rang.


	2. Dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This has been abandoned unless I can find someone to help me with it.
> 
> Not sure what's going on here. Against what you may think by looking at the title of the story, they weren't originally going to cook. There will be teasing, drinks, and probably someone pointing them out in the grocery store. Apparently I don't do as well writing from Aziraphale's point of view. The story was going to go back to Crowley's view anyway for the next bit because imagine the description of boredom Crowley could think up.

Aziraphale, as he usually was, was reading one of the ancient tomes in his collection. This particular one was Bellifortis, written by Konrad Kyeser. Aziraphale had picked up this particular illustrated manuscript on a trip to a small village in Bohemia. He had visited to do some good work on the crops for that season. Humans were so creative, shame they couldn't put it to better use than war machines to rip each other apart with. The artistry in the book, however, was quite exquisite. He hadn't read this book since 1608.  
Suddenly he felt a spike of demonic energy in the area. He recognized the energy as Crowley's almost instantly and almost dropped the book he was reading. A hundred things flew through Aziraphale's mind as he quickly placed his book down and ran to the phone to call Crowley. The clicking of the rotary dial could be heard as Aziraphale dialed the number for Crowley's phone. It rang a total of five times before Crowley answered with an slightly annoyed and slightly out of breath  
"Yes?"  
"Crowley! Are you alright dear boy? I felt your energy and I didn-"  
"Aziraphale," Crowley interrupted the blabbering angel before he could say anything else, "'M fine Angel."  
"Are you absolutely sure you are quite alright, you sound tired. Were you running from someone?"  
"I wasn't running," Crowley tried to find an explanation that was not 'I masturbated to the thought of you and lost control' and settled on, "I just got spooked by something, thought someone was going to hit my car. Couldn't have that."  
On his end, Aziraphale blinked in a bit of confusion  
"Spooked? I thought demons couldn't get spooked." Aziraphale stated quietly, more to himself than to the demon on the other end of the line.  
"Yes, spooked. It happens when the thing you care about is about to get smashed with a garbage truck."  
"Ah, yes. I suppose so." Aziraphale didn't sound convinced in the least, but decided not to press the issue farther, "Well, while I have you on the phone, I got a new shipment of some top quality wines if you would like to come over for a drink. I'll even make dinner! I haven't cooked for you before have I?" The angel had perked up by this point. He was excited to see what kind of food he could cook. He hadn't cooked often, but knew the basics and might even make a good plate of food if he tried extra hard.  
"You don't hav' to do that." Crowley half groaned, "Besides, do you even know how to cook?"  
Well... Not really, but it will be fun! I have several recipe books here that you could chose a meal from, and I do have a small kitchen with an oven and a stove. It will be delightful! Maybe we could make dessert together!"  
Crowley sighed. He knew he wouldn't be able to convince the stubborn angel that cooking was not a good idea.  
"Ok, but how about we do it at my place. At least I know my stove is less than a century old and won't burn the whole place down."  
There was silence on Aziraphale's side for a minute before  
"Alright, sounds good, what time shall I be over?"  
"How about in 20, if that's alright with you."  
"I'll be there." Aziraphale paused for a moment before speaking again "Wait, Crowley, do you have ingredients?"  
"Well, It depends, what'cha lookin' for, Angel?"  
"I... I don't really know."  
"Do you have a recipe?"  
"Well, no."  
"Angel, you need a recipe first, bring a few cook books and we'll go over them when you are here. GTG angel. Bye." Crowley hung up.  
Aziraphale looked at the phone like it had moved on it's own. "What in heavens is G T G?" He wondered allowed.

Aziraphale showed up on Crowley's doorstep right on time. In his left hand was a bag containing the wine and a few cook books. He straightened his coat and took a moment to prepare himself. He hadn't been to Crowley's apartment that often and was a little nervous. Standing out side of the dark grey door, he could already smell the infernal scent of slightly burnt wood and cinnamon. He took in a breath and closed his eyes, it was a good scent. Crowley had always smelled good to the angel. Well except once in Egypt where Perfume was rotten fat. Aziraphale really did not understand the appeal, it just drew flies. Aziraphale shook his head, took one more breath, and knocked on the cold steel door.  
"Come on in, Angel!" Came a muffled Crowley from somewhere inside the apartment. Aziraphale let him self in and brought his bag to the living room, which wasn't very livingroomesque in his opinion, but he didn't mind too much.  
"Hey, since you were coming over, I thought I'd get a bit better furniture than that old couch." Crowley came around the corner and pointed at his old couch. He then swung his arm to Aziraphale like he wanted him to follow. The angel did follow and was brought into another room that was behind a closed door. He hadn't been in here before, as last time he came it was on an emergency basis  
Aziraphale followed Crowley into the room. It was probably once a dining room, but had been converted to a neat and tidy dark grey modern living room. There were two leather couches nestled in the corner, a side table sat nicely between them. A dark bookcase leaned against one of the walls, a few books lay unorganized and cluttered. Aziraphale thought that surely Crowley knew how to organize better than that, after all they spent most of their evenings in the angel's book shop. He should at least organize by color. He noticed that a few of them were books on botany, mostly with green covers and with titles like "The Savage Garden" and "Wicked Plants and weeds" even a book on bonsai that was in Japanese. Aziraphale had given him that book as a little gift one time when he visited Japan and found a little book shop. He thought it looked, most definitely, like Crowley. On the shelf were a few other books Aziraphale had given the demon. He knew Crowley didn't read often, but knew what he liked when he did.

Aziraphale went to pull the cook books out of his leather book bag. There were several in there, so he decided to take the largest two and bring them to the kitchen bar for Crowley and him to look at. Both were pretty basic recipe books with nothing too fancy in their pages. Nothing like the Ritz, but Aziraphale didn't think he could cook like that without miracleing it anyway, and that takes all the fun out of it.

As they sat at the bar in the kitchen and looked at the books with all of their colorful pictures of amazing and colorful food, Aziraphale's mind drifted a bit.  
It was back to the smell of Crowley. Slightly smelling of burned wood, and warmth. The smell of his leather jacket, he had taken to wearing, clinging on his clothes. The cinnamon sting that tickled the angel's nose just perfectly. The slight hint of a very manly musk that was rather new. Aziraphale hadn't remembered smelling cologne on him before, almost ever. He quite liked it actually. It reminded him of the earth in a forest. The little beetles wandering around and grabbing microscopic plants from the slightly uneven, leaf laden, ground. A butterfly flying past to go find a flower on a vine in the tree above. A bird chirping happily and beautifully, feather glistening in the patchy sunshine. Aziraphale closed his eyes and took a deep and happy breath, smiling contentedly. This earned him an odd look from Crowley who was sitting next to him at the bar.

"What's got you so happy?" Crowley asked in a slightly teasing way. 

"Oh!" Aziraphale gave a slight start and turned to face the demon sitting next to him, "Ah, just... Thinking about how this dish would smell." He lied about as well as he could lie, which was to say, not very well. He was after all, an angel. He wasn't made to lie, but he couldn't just say 'Your cologne makes me happy and reminds me of leaf dirt and beetles.' Now could he?

The, now smug, demon sitting next to him decided to play a little game with him. Getting the angel all flustered and confused was always great fun. It was also a good test to see his reaction to a bit of flirting and see if the angel even got it. 

"So, i' that why your ears are red, then?" Crowley poked fun at the angel. Aziraphale actually really blushed at that comment. His ears weren't red, were they? Aziraphale almost reached up to check to see if they were hot before he stopped himself, It would not be a wise move if he planned to hide his feelings at all. He didn't have feelings for the demon, no, not at all. Not even when he saw Crowley in the bar, on his fourth bottle of wine after his bookshop burned down... Not even the way he said the angel's name when he first saw his discorporated form. Definitely not after Crowley did his little miracle with the books.

"Well, the dish would be spicy." He said confidently, He couldn't let Crowley know, surely not!

Crowley leaned in closer, an easy task since he was right next to the angel. He got to within a foot of Aziraphales face and locked eyes with him.

"You are a terrible liar you know." He said softly, making the angel very uncomfortable suddenly. Up this close, the details of the demon's face were striking. His blood red hair almost reached his shoulders, framing an angled and graceful face. His lips were a nice shade of rich pink, moist and plump. 'Aziraphale! Stop!' He thought to himself desperately. He couldn't though. The face in front of him was too mesmerizing, too beautiful. The way his mouth curved into a smile, showing his teeth, showing just one of his elongated canines; his chin, so right and handsome. His eyes. His eyes danced like golden flame around a slit of infinite starless space. He saw the slight dilation and contraction of that slit in the universe as the demon looked from one of the angel's eyes to the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that when Crowley had turned to face him, he had put his arm on the bar. His hand was millimetres from the angel's right arm. Pretty much touching his tan coat without allowing sensation to distract Aziraphale from the tempting serpent's eyes.

Aziraphale was quickly losing control of his thoughts. He felt uncomfortably hot and his bowtie just a tad too tight. Maybe the heat was just Crowley's apartment? Maybe he kept it warm because he was a snake, or because of his plants? It felt like forever since the demon had first leaned in and the angel was quite red in the face and had his feathers quite thoroughly ruffled. He'd have to preen them later, get them back in tip top shape.

Thinking about his wings gave Aziraphale just enough distraction to look away and mumble something along the lines of "You smell nice." Just quiet enough that he hoped Crowley didn't hear.

Crowley did hear it and was a bit surprised by it. He didn't expect Azirahale the pure Angel to actually admit something like that. The demon thought if it actually meant something or not. It showed on his face for the briefest of seconds before he regained control, sat back, and flipped a bunch of pages quite noisily, breaking the tension... Hopefully. 

"Aha! Here we go! Chicken pasta with tomato sauce! What'cja think Angel? Simple, tasty, Good with a nice red, eh?"  
"Sounds good." Aziraphale replied quietly, still rather ruffled. If He were a cockatoo, you could say he was battle floofed. Aziraphale did his best to compose himself and then said "Well, we better find somewhere that has the stuff for this."  
Crowley looked a bit irritated "You mean you aren't just going to miracle the ingredients here? Really Angel?"  
Aziraphale gave him a slightly pouty frown and replied with just a touch of 'Holier than thou' "And what would be the fun in that?"  
Crowley rolled his eyes and got up from his stool. "I'm not going with you then."  
"Of course you are! How else will I get there?"  
"Are you implying that you want me to drive you? Ooh, you really are smitten with me, aren't you angel. Wanting to spend time with this old demon so much that you will let me drive you somewhere?"  
"Well... I..." Aziraphale looked slightly like a fish for a few seconds as his brain completely shorted out and his blush returned. Crowley was having way too much fun with this.


End file.
